Butterfly
by Ohh Kiss
Summary: Sterek; this wasn't what he came here for. This wasn't what high school was supposed to be.
1. Do it

It was the middle of the night when Stiles showed up at the abandoned house. I guess abandoned isn't quite the right word to use, but it was fitting. Nothing really lived here. Nothing _real_ lived here.

"Derek!" His voice was choked out, stuck in his throat. He pawed at his eyes angrily, footsteps hard against the earth below him. His body shook and his lips were pressed into a hard line, fingers curled into fists.

The moon was hidden tonight, behind clouds and thick mists. The stars were hardly visible even in the clearest parts of the sky.

Stiles yelled his name again, pushing clumsily through the door and strained his eyes to see through the opaque darkness settled inside the half-standing house.

His heart might as well have been a butterfly. Frantic, like it's wings had been pulled off and it was convulsing on the concrete. Skipping across the ground. Hard. Fast. Desperate.

His chest was heavy. It burnt. It felt tight, like something inside him was drying up and cracking open.

The dark was suffocating and Stiles stumbled through it, tripping over his own feet, catching his breath and trying his best not to sound as completely in shambles as he was. He pushed the tears falling across his cheeks away as his foot hit the bottom of the stair case. His footing wasn't stable and it was the last push he needed to fall against the dusty wooden floor and bury his face in his hands.

"Where the fuck are you?!" he was screaming, sobbing, shaking against the oak panels. His chest heaved and his breathing hitched.

The night was calm and watched him break against its silence.

"What do I do,_ what the fuck am I supposed to do_?"

Stiles held his face, his chewed up fingernails digging into his scalp. It felt like being shot with rock salt, like being burned again and again with the end of a cigarette. There was nothing he could do. Nothing. It wasn't worth it to be the friend anymore, to be the brains or the bravery. None of it was worth it. How do you cope when you're friends are all dying around you? Slowly? Brutally?

It was **exhausting**.

A hand snaked around his shoulder and Stiles jolted, scrambling to his feet.

"W-why? Why didn't you just answer me, jesus christ..."

He looked at the ground instead of at Derek who stood unphased infront of him. The wolf took in a long breath and sighed into the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the house. Stiles cleared his throat, sniffled, slapped away the salt on his cheeks.

"I didn't want to-"

It wasn't necessarily the snide remark that made Stiles punch Derek in the mouth, but the principal that he could be so cruel to him in this situation.

The boys fist hit a hard jaw and Derek growled, reaching a hand up to touch the already healing split lip the human had left on him.

It happened fast. First how Derek slammed Stiles into the near wall, and second how dangerously close his fangs were to the boys face. Red eyes narrowed and he gripped Stiles' shoulders, claws digging into the flesh underneath the dingy flannel he had thrown on.

"Do it!"

Derek blinked.

His face softened.

"Do it, Derek, fucking bite me, tear my throat out. Do it before someone else does," Stiles spat out the words furiously, tears once again threatening to spill over his lashes. Derek could hear his heart. That butterfly heart, beating like it had nothing to lose.

There was another moment of silence. Stiles stared at Derek as his red eyes faded and he looked passed him, into the wall, into nothing. His grip on the boy didn't loosen and he breathed evenly, not responding to the suicide attempt that Stiles had apparently came here to fufill.

"Everyone's dying, Derek... Everyone's going to die. Scott, You, Me, we're all fucking-"

"I'm not going to die."

It was quiet again after that. Derek finally looked at Stiles.

"You aren't going to die."

Stiles still wasn't breathing normally but his heartbeat had slowed and he relaxed his body against the wall, his head tipping forward before lolling to the side. He looked up to the darkness where the moon should have been through the broken rafters. They were all going to die. It would happen sometime. Everything fucking dies.

"Why, why the fuck are you here, Stiles? For _me_ to kill you? **_Really_**?" Derek shoved him back against the wall, letting go of his shoulders and holding his hands up in mock surrender, "You think _I'm_ the one who should kill you?"

Stiles didn't look at him, didn't do much of anything. Who else would he go to? Where else would he run?

"You've taken pity on me before, Derek, so I figured," Stiles shrugged, his hands gripping his scalp again as he kicked the wall and paced back and forth once again in the dark. "You have... been showing fucking pity on me for months so," the boys voice trailed off.

Derek watched him. His mouth parted, eyes searching for some kind of justification to what exactly Stiles was trying to imply.

And then it dawned on him.

Stiles' back hit the ground hard, the back of his head slamming against the floor boards. Derek's hand circled his throat and he lifted Stiles to face him, hovering above the boy like a nightmare would a sleeping child.

"_**Really**_?!"

His voice was a growl and Stiles flinched beneath him.

"You think that I have been _pity_ fucking you?"

There it was. That silence again. The kind where tension had weaved its way into every single crevice that it had to offer. Stiles looked away uncomfortably, biting down angrily into his bottom lip. That wasn't it. That wasn't what this was about.

Stiles punched him again. As hard as he could and the wolf did nothing more than roll his eyes.

It hurt. It hurt that Derek had figured out just how insecure Stiles was and it hurt more that he wasn't taking him seriously. This isn't what he signed up for. His junior year of high school was not supposed to be spent making sure his best friend doesn't eat the cat and casually fucking his alpha on the side. He wasn't supposed to watch his friends get hurt, watch more parents die, dig up dead fucking bodies.

He was supposed to go to prom, get good grades, steal his dads alcohol.

But no, that just wasn't in the cards for him.

"Yes," Stiles finally answered and lifted his hands to claw at Derek's grip on his neck. The wolf released and sat poised above him with his hands settled on either sides of the young adult.

Derek leaned his forehead against the boys, taking in a heavy breath, "That's not fair, you can't use that-"

"Are you fucking kidding me," Stiles squirmed, his eyes shifted away from the wolf who kept him locked in place with another low and threatening growl.

"No, I am not fucking kidding you, Stiles. This almost concerns me."

Stiles looked up at him, eyebrows raised as he sniffled again. A sarcastic laugh dripped from between his lips and he squirmed again, shifting to try and crawl out from under the much larger man.

"Almost concerns you... _Almost_ concerns you? This is exactly why I came here, this is why I came to you, because you obviously do not give a shit about anyone but yourself and your pretty little pack so what good am I to you? Get the fuck off me."

Derek's fist slammed against the floor inches from Stiles' head but he did nothing more than blink up at him.

"You missed."

"Don't talk to me like that."

They stared at each other. Stiles trying to contain his emotions and Derek trying to contain his anger. Both of them hurt but neither of them willing to admit it.

It took a moment before things became blurry. Before Derek had pried at Stiles' lips with his own and their teeth knocked together because of just how furious they were with each other. The silence was still there. Between the sound of the buttons on Stiles' shirt popping off, or the sound of Derek's jeans being pushed down by mismatched socks.

This isn't what he came here for tonight.

It wasn't.

He didn't come here for a quick fuck in the woods. He didn't drive all the way out here to leave bruises on the condescending alpha who had been fucking with his head for what? Six months now? Eight? He had lost count.

Derek's skin was covered in tiny scars, his wrists, his chest, his shoulders and even his hips which grinded and dug into Stiles who writhed beneath him. His breath hitched and he bit down on the wolf, his teeth sinking into the supple skin below his ear.

The bruises always healed minutes after they finished. Derek was always careful about where he left his marks. Thighs, hips, ribcage. Scott had only seen them once and he was too stupid to question Stiles when he said he had slipped at school on his way to chemistry.

It was always like this. Needy and fast and out of control.

Derek had only hurt Stiles once. Fractured his wrist. Since then Derek had never pinned his arms.

Their breathing had occupied the space where the silence had been. Soft whimpers, demanding growls.

This was the first time it had ended with Stiles looking down at Derek, his face flushed and his body trembling.

"You aren't going to die," Derek said it softly through the shadow of a smile as he calmed his breathing and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

Stiles dragged the tip of his finger along the wolfs jawline, where he had hit him. His thoughts were swimming around inside his skull like confused fish in an unfamiliar pond.

"I'm already dead."

It was the first time Stiles saw Derek look anything but angry. The hurt twisted his lips and his eyes turned away from the boy hovering above him. He grabbed Stiles hand as he stroked his unshaven jaw and placed it to his mouth, kissing it gently.

"No," he sighed, sitting up and wrapping a strong arm around Stiles' lean figure, "I can smell the life in you." Derek pressed his face into his neck, pulling their chests against each other.

"I can hear it."

Stiles ran his fingers through the alphas hair and the silence was back.

This isn't what he came for.


	2. Normal

**I was asked to continue this story so I will extend it. I honestly expected it to be a long drabble of sorts so bear with me as I build somewhat of a plot soon. Reviews are always appreciated.**

***Kind of some season two spoilers***

* * *

_Come back tonight._

"Who was that?"

Stiles frantically shoved his cell phone into the depths of his pocket and blinked once or twice at Scott before answering. "My dad-" he stumbled over his words, pulling at the black beanie covering his buzzed head, "he wants me to come by the station again and have dinner with him."

Scott held the door open as they walked into fifth period. The wolf shrugged the backpack off his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Stiles who took the seat behind him.

"Since when did your dad start texting?"

God, nosy ass... "He texts when I'm at school, its easier than calling," Stiles was getting better and better at lying. Day by day. Night be night. He was worried though, Scott wasn't just some guy who hung out with him on the weekends, this was Scott and as stupid as he seems to be it was only a matter of time before he found out what what going on between his alpha and his best friend.

_Maybe_.

He texted back quickly, deleting the messages after they had sent and sliding the phone back where it belonged.

He was sore. Everything was always sore after his nights or mid-day visits with Derek. It was just something he had became accustomed to over time.

Scott was talking about something. Allison? Yep. Allison, like everyday in American History.

"And god, her hair always smells like roses or peaches! Oh, it must be that new garnier she bought with me at the store. You know, the new CVS off of..."

It's draining. Hearing about her everyday. Stiles knows how in-love those two are but after a while it starts to sound like a family of bees making a hive right next to the top of his spine. He nodded along with Scott's words that he was not particularly listening to and instead was focused on other things. Like the sounds Derek made when his nails were raked down the alphas back. How his skin smelt like burnt cinnamon and that cheap knock-off axe spray that he always sprayed on his clothes before he left the house. How had this all even happened...? How had a seventeen year old boy just one day start fucking someone like Derek?

"Are you listening?"

Stiles blinked and halfheartedly nodded.

The bell rang.

A sigh of relief floated over the boys lips. Thank god he didn't have to explain his way out of that one. _What're you thinking about, Stiles? Oh not much, just thinking about your alpha slamming me against the side of one of the parked school buses next to the fields. After practice, of course._

That would go over well.

Then of course the- _I can't stand this shit anymore and I almost killed myself last night_, would come after. And that would be even better.

"You have a free period, right?" Scott turned to look at Stiles as they both grabbed their books and walked out the door and towards the lockers down in the other wing of the school. He nodded, scratching the back of his neck and noticing a small scab right below his hair line. He pulled his beanie down quickly and shuffled his feet against the ground as they stopped to inquire with Lydia about how Jackson had been doing these passed few days.

It was understandable that the hot-headed jock would take a couple days off. When you go from Godzilla to Micheal Corvin in an hour it can do something to your head.

"He's good, he's good," Lydias sweet smile was actually sincere for once and she nodded, laughing with Scott about upcoming shows at an old bar downtown, apparently some good bands were playing. Stiles didn't really care. With his luck he would just have to bury another friend after, or god forbid explain to someone why Jackson and Scott were howling instead of singing.

He chuckled.

Scott and Lydia blinked at him and he blinked back.

"Is my boyfriend having to take xanex to sleep at night funny to you, Stiles?"

She had always been cute in her sarcastic, 'I'm-better-than-you' kind of way and for a while there she and her heinous attitude had ruled his life. Funny how things change.

"I'm sorry," Stiles shuffled in place, his shoes squeaking against the tile, "I was laughing at something else. I hope tall, blonde and handsome feels better, we need him on the field."

They said their goodbyes, Lydia shooting Stiles a cold glance before walking towards to library.

"What's up with you today?" Scott stopped, his hand resting gently on the other boys shoulder, "Did something happen? Are you feeling alright?"

Stiles sighed again and nodded at Scott while pulling nervously on the ends of his black t-shirt. "I'm fine, I just didn't sleep well last night and I'm a little tired. I think I'm just gonna head home and try to sleep."

Scott's eyes narrowed and he looked down at Stiles' chest, then back to his eyes.

"If you want to talk I'm here, I'll tell coach you weren't feeling well," he placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder again and gave it a small squeeze. It was awkward. The feeling when someone catches you lying. Hears the birds in your chest flapping their wings to try and cover up the truth to something. How the fuck do you tell someone that though? Not that Scott would judge him in any way but how exactly do you go about, one, I'm sleeping with men! Which, Scott would probably high five him for and, two, bonus! It's Derek! And then Stiles would get punched in the face.

How these things arranged themselves in his head was beyond him.

But, he nodded to him and turned away without another word to head towards his lonesome Jeep parked at the end of the parking lot. Parking's always a bitch when you get to school fifteen minutes late because you only got three hours of sleep.

It was cold that day. One of those weird gloomy days in April when everything is supposed to be coming to life but instead is weighed down by grey skies and moist decaying leaves rotting into the earth. "What am I doing..." Stiles muttered to himself as he fumbled in his pocket for his phone and his keys.

"You're coming over."

He jumped, lost his footing and tripped, falling against the side of his jeep. Derek raised an eyebrow, a coy, cold smile twisting the corners of his mouth.

Stiles clutched at his chest, heaving in breath after breath. His hands were balled into tight fists. "Am I now? That would be great except why the fuck are you here? And can't you just say '_hello_' like a normal god-damn person."

Derek shook his head and un-folded his arms, walking around to the other side of the jeep and hoisting himself in.

"There would be no fun in that. Where should we go?"

Stiles didn't look at him much. He acted like everything was fine, non-chalant, it wasn't as if he had showed up screaming in the middle of the night for Derek to end his existence.

"You're serious right now?"

Stiles reached across to open the glove compartment and snatched a lighter and a blue pack of cigarettes. Derek's forehead creased and he growled, his lips folding into a thin line, "Those are disgusting. What are you trying to do kill yo-" he stopped, his mouth half-open as he stared at the boy who pinched the stick between his lips and took in a deep drag.

Stiles looked over at him. He'd never seen Derek blush or be embarrassed or caught off guard. Not once.

"Yeah," Stiles said, shrugging as he shoved the key in the ignition and the jeep roared to life, "You know that best of all."

Derek said nothing. Like always.

Stiles drove into the woods and swallowed a lump in his throat when they passed the area where Jackson had escaped the police transport. Fucking stupid idea. His idea, but still completely ridiculous.

He shoved the car into park and twisted the keys until the jeep died into a low rumble and then nothing at all. It was old and creaked every so often to break up the yet again completely un-called for silence.

"Stiles..." Derek tested his name, his hands busying themselves with his own nailbeds, "What can I do? What would you like me to do?" He spoke softly, unlike Stiles had ever heard him speak. It might have actually been an ounce of concern sneaking into those ice covered vocal cords.

He didn't answer right away, but instead crawled into the back seat and the wolf followed, snatching his lips in his own. It wasn't aggressive or hard. There was no punching and no crying. It was just a kiss.

Derek fell against the cushioned seat and pulled Stiles astride him, wrapping his hand around the back of the boys neck and guiding him back to his mouth. It was soft at first, gentle and slow, hands wandered here and there and hips brushed against one another. Stiles craned his neck, his eyes resting closed as Derek bit down on his throat, his tongue tracing the dent of his collar bone. The alpha pulled at his shirt but Stiles grabbed his wrist, shaking his head as he took in a much needed breath.

"N-no, no... Just-" his words trailed off as his hands tangled into Derek's hair, gripping tightly, "Just, not tonight..." His lips brushed down passed the scruff of his cheek and he sank his teeth into the mans neck, sucking gently on the delicate skin.

Derek chuckled, his hands tugging daringly at Stiles' hips, "What? You just want to make-out in the back seat like two teenagers?"

Stiles released the now purple patch of flesh from between his lips and heaved an aggravated sigh.

"Yeah, okay, yes. I do."

He sat up, leaning back on Derek's thighs, his knees on either side of him, "I want to do something relatively normal, like make-out in the back of my car on a school night, okay?"

Derek's eyebrows raised and he smiled, another contained laugh sloppily falling into the space between them. Stiles rolled his eyes and his head fell back, his beanie sliding off in the process. "Really? You're gonna make fun of me because I want to be fucking normal?"

The wolf leaned forward, his teeth grazing Stiles' jaw, a hand sliding to cup the soft skin along his cheek before he pulled him back into a passionate kiss, his free hand gripping into the boys back.

"We aren't normal," Derek sighed between Stiles' lips, welcoming his tongue to press warmly against his own. But Stiles was thankful that Derek didn't fight him and yet again wound his spidery fingers into the alphas hair, drawing him closer.


	3. Coffee

**Okay. So first off, thank you guys so much for the reviews and the follows. It means a lot to me. I will keep this story going for a long while and I plan on updating as much as I can. This chapter is a little fluffy and a little long but just bare with me as I get my bearings with where this is going. Secondly, holy fuck me, did you guys watch the episode this Monday? I cried like a baby. Anyways, thank you again and I will be updating within the next two days so keep your eyes peeled for the fourth install!**

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It was always uncomfortable waking up in the morning these days. The sun fell through his blinds and onto his face and he rolled from side to side, tangled in sheets he'd had on his bed since before his mom died. Stiles groaned, one hand pawing at his eyes and the other reaching and clawing towards his night stand to silence the persistent beeping that was coming from the alarm on his phone. It was Monday.

It had been exactly five days since his last visit with Derek and more appropriately it had been five days of lacrosse practice, studying and whispers of Prom sneaking up in the last few months of his junior year.

Stiles pressed down on his phone, yawning and propping himself up on his elbows.

4 missed calls.

3 unread texts.

He blinked, rubbed at his eyes.

"...the fuck," Stiles looked at the number and rolled his eyes before opening up the first message.

_Hey._

Then the second.

_You're probably asleep._

Then the third.

_I miss you._

The smirk that pulled at the corners of Stiles' lips bore into a sleepy sheepish grin and he tossed his phone to the side, stretching his arm and rolling onto his back.

"Stiles! Get your ass to school, I'm leaving!" The sheriff called up the stairs and his son yelled an answer back through an unwelcomed laugh as he thought once again about the ridiculous texts he had received in the middle of the night. It probably wasn't ridiculous for most seventeen year old's to wake up to things like that from the person their sleeping with but.. Derek? That was completely out of character.

He laid there for a moment more, his arms stretched out, fingertips playing with the gummy casing of his phone. It was one of those mornings that felt like a Sunday, like he should walk downstairs and pour himself a bowl of cereal and not move until noon. But a sigh fell across his lips and he hoisted himself from the safety of his down comforter and childhood sheets to drag his feet across the carpet and into the bathroom.

He brushed his teeth while he was in the shower, looking down at his arms and his chest. It was strange not seeing marks. Being bare and un-bruised. There were no purple and red blemishes, no rakes where Derek's teeth would have been, no nips or broken blood vessels. Just soft beige flesh.

A towel was wrapped loosely around his waist as he dug through his closet. He pulled a long-sleeved shirt off a hanger and glanced briefly into the mirrored door. A gasp was sucked in murderously fast and Stiles stepped backwards, bumping into his night stand. His hand flew up as he gripped his chest, eyes falling closed as he heaved in breath after breath.

"Jesus fucking Christ! _Really_?!"

Stiles shot a cold hard glare at Derek who stood at the other end of the room, trying to control the laughter threatening to spill from between his lips.

He held two coffee cups in his hands and his head fell to one side as he eyed the panicky boy before him.

"I brought you coffee," he managed to say it playfully, his chuckles easing their way between each word.

Stiles was both furious and relieved, excited and unmistakably horrified. What was this becoming? He had never been in Stiles' room none the less had the alpha ever bought him anything in his life. And last nights cheesy 'I miss you' texts had already made him wonder about what was going on.

This was just fucking, _right_? Just an emotional outlet.

He was stuck in his head, analyzing the situation over and over again.

Derek walked over, gesturing with his shoulder to the window as he set the coffee cups down on the night stand that Stiles was leaning against, "I let myself in, I figured you wouldn't mind. I didn't mean to scare you," the last couple words were masked in laughter.

Stiles stared blankly, lifting his eyes to watch as Derek raised an eyebrow.

"What...?" Derek's lips pursed together, eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other and back again, "I can go, I mean-"

"You were awfully weird last night," Stiles interjected, raising an eyebrow of his own as he watched Derek's expression fall blank.

Stiles moved to the side, reaching for his phone on the bed.

"No- No! I know, okay. You really do not have to show me," Derek grabbed Stiles waist, which was still hardly covered by a towel and pulled him back from the bed. The smaller boy squirmed free, a playful smile curving at his lips as he fell on the bed, "You missed me!" He teased, taunted, laughed.

The wolf fell on the bed next to him, snatched the phone from his hand and tossed it to the carpeted floor. He covered his face with the palms of his hands, shaking his head back and forth. Stiles watched, waiting for the explanation that was obviously coming.

"Peter," Derek started and then sighed, letting his hands fall to his side on the bed, "Peter and Isaac got into an argument about who could drink more."

His lips pursed into a thin line and he started blankly at the ceiling. Stiles' lips parted, a coy smile ghosting across them.

"You..." Stiles covered his laugh with his arm, "You had a bro-drinking night with Uncle Peter and Isaac? You got drunk? You get drunk? Why the fuck didn't I know this?" Stiles was laughing, the laughing that makes your stomach hurt and your eyes fill with water. "You drunk texted me?!"

Derek was laughing too and he covered his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Yes. Yes, okay. I drunk texted you. I got drunk and I texted you, I'm sorry," they were both laughing, wholeheartedly laughing. Stiles leaned his forehead into Derek's shoulder and Derek picked himself up, placing his knees on either side of the boy beneath him.

Stiles had never seen him like this. Laughing. Playful. He'd never joked with him like this, been near him like this. It was all new, completely new. It was a side of the alpha that he had never seen. And it scared him. But he was laughing too hard to care about being scared.

"Stop laughing at me," Derek grumbled, a crooked smile still holding his lips upright. Stiles' hands moved from the bed to the wolfs face, pulling his mouth down against his own. It was soft at first, both of them still smiling through the kiss, containing their childish laughter. And then it matured.

Lips pulled at each other. Stiles tugged at Dereks lip with his teeth and it didn't take long before the man was running his fingers along the naked and freshly cleaned body beneath him. It was different. Stiles' mind was clouded and hazy and he couldn't distinguish which emotion he was feeling and why he was feeling it. He just knew that it was Monday and it was morning and that he hadn't laughed that hard in a very long time.

Derek's shirt was thrown to the ground, his pants kicked off.

Stiles opened his eyes as scratchy stubble and a warm tongue dripped down his throat. It was never like this, never slow, never in the morning, never in a bed.

He had never felt Derek like this.

"Do you like me?" the words fell out of Stiles' mouth before he had a chance to chew them up and swallow them like the rest of his thoughts. The alpha covered his lips with his own and his hand curved up the younger boys leg which absently raised, his knee sliding across the side of Dereks hip.

Derek stopped momentarily, looking down at Stiles, confusion flashing across his eyes.

"Stiles," he shook his head, "Why do you even have to ask me that question?"

The younger boy looked to the side, his finger tips gently stroking across Dereks forearm. It wasn't a question. It was more of a concern. It wasn't some 'make it or break it' answer that he was looking for. He didn't need a love confession. Hell, he didn't want any of that. But if emotions were going to start to get involved, he would like to at least know why.

He had been trying to figure out why for months now. And to be completely fucking honest, Stiles didn't believe that any of this was going to last anyways. At some point they were all going to go separate ways. Something would happen and Derek would die or he would die or Derek would have to run and Scott and Isaac and Peter would follow. Allison would go with Scott and Lydia would obviously stay with Jackson until he went back to Europe. And Stiles would be dead or alone.

Or, you know, they could all graduate and go to college. Somewhere in the depths of his mind that idea still comforted him, even though he was convinced it wasn't possible anymore.

Derek placed his lips against Stiles' bare throat, "I'm trying here," he muttered, moving his hand to grip the boys side before he propped himself up.

It was hard to hear that.

"A week ago you showed up in the middle of the night screaming that you wanted me to kill you," he shook his head and Stiles still stared blankly to the side. His breathing was even and his eyes were far away. Somewhere else.

"Do you know what that did to me?"

Stiles finally looked up at him.

"No, I don't know what it did to you," Stiles breathed out softly.

How could a morning like this, one filled with belly aching laughter and soft touches be turned into this? Stiles mentally scolded himself. He wasn't supposed to be the cold one. He didn't mean to ruin whatever this was.

Derek leaned down, his forehead brushing across Stiles' before he pressed his lips down against his own. The boy gratefully returned the kiss. It felt like forgiveness but he didn't really know how to sift through what he had been feeling all morning so it could have been something else.

"You need to get ready for school," the alphas words were soft and he scooted himself off the bed. He shuffled around the room, finding a shoe here, his shirt next to the dresser. Stiles watched, sitting on his bed with his toes crunching into the carpet again and again.

"Stiles," Derek's voice was louder and the younger boy lifted his head, his eyes darting over to the window, "C'mon, are you going to dress yourself or..?" the wolf lifted a brow and smirked. Stiles nodded absently and looked away again, twiddling his fingers together.

What do you say to someone who you can't care about but do care about? Someone you absolutely can not be with but are seeing on a regular basis? What does a seventeen year old human say to a twenty-three year old werewolf.

Derek sighed, his head shaking back and forth as he grasped the window sill, stepping out.

"Derek," Stiles called from his bed, looking over his shoulder to meet the others gaze. He held up the still luke warm coffee cup, "thank you for bringing me coffee."

They watched each other for a minute, Stiles looking utterly lost and confused and Derek trying to decipher what to say back.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice airy and weaved with a small chuckle. He turned to leave again, pulling his other leg over the window and standing to jump from the roof to the soft patch of grass on the Stilinski's lawn.

"Hey! Derek!" Stiles walked to the window, peeking his head out and chewing on the inside of his lip, "Can I-"

His voice cracked and he closed his eyes, taking in a small breath, "Can I come see your new place?"

They had never done this before. It had never been planned or talked about or scheduled. They had never actually done anything together, talked about anything except how to catch Jackson and what to do about Isaac or how to keep Scott calm on the field. It had never been about them. It had never been about _him_.

Derek blinked and nodded, "Yeah," he seemed thrown off but his smile was as genuine as it had been all morning, "come by tomorrow."

It was strange, watching him drive away. It had never been like this. Never happened like this.

Everything was so fucked up.

His heart pounded as Stiles grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder.

God. He had fucked everything up.


	4. Panic

**Hai guys :3 Are you as excited as I am for tomorrows episode? Annyyywwaaayys, here's the next chapter. Don't be mad, the next one will be up soon! **

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Each class felt like a bullet to the head. Except played in slow motion. He could feel it scrape through the first couple layers of skin and squeeze passed the thick cranium and into soft brain matter. It itched. Hurt. Stiles couldn't keep still. Couldn't focus on anything. Every time the bell rang it made him flinch because his thoughts were in so many different places, doing so many different things.

Scott was next to him in the locker room, growling and grumbling about how he got a B- on his first English test instead of an A. It was worth laughing at but Stiles couldn't think of much encouragement except for, 'we'll study more' and 'it's not that big of a deal.' The young wolf bickered and groaned all the way to the lacrosse field.

It wasn't until they actually got to the field that Scott decided it would be appropriate to mention the issues going on within the pack.

"So," he started, looking across to Stiles as they both did sit-ups, one right after the other. "Isaac is-"

"Right here."

The other wolf took a seat next to Scott, falling into rhythm with the other players. Stiles watched them both expectantly as he sat up to stretch. Scott blinked over at Isaac and sighed, "Isaac is thinking that there might be more wolves coming. Since the area is so vast and there's been so much drama flying around there's no way some omegas and betas haven't had some kind of curiosity."

_Exactly_ what they needed. It wasn't as if a pack of alphas hadn't already flipped their lives upside down, let's throw in some others.

Stiles nodded, "I'm sure you're right," he looked across to Isaac who was eyeing him up and down rather oddly. He raised a brow, "but how exactly are we going to deal with this? Is little miss bow and arrow going to do some tracking or...?"

Scott narrowed his eyes and stood, waiting for Isaac and Stiles to follow. They jogged the field a few times, bickering about how she could be helpful in a situation like this. Isaac argued vehemently against the idea.

It made sense. All of it. It all made complete and perfect sense. Wolves are pack animals and they gravitate to strength but it's not like there's been much of that going around. People are falling apart. Everyone around him just keeps dying and what's next? A group of packless wolves going to show up hoping that this little club would be something stable they could stand on. Ground they could run on. Beacon Hills was not the place. And they were definitely not the people.

"It's just something we need to keep in mind," Isaac added, "no other wolves will come near us until we have the alphas taken care of anyways."

Stiles was distracted but nodded, shuffling on his feet in the line of lacrosse players practicing their shots.

* * *

It went by slow. The whole day had gone by slow.

It went from class to practice to studying. There was nothing left to do. Nothing left to think about. Except for the way Derek looked when he was laughing. Or how the muscles in his arms flexed when he felt Stiles' teeth sink into his shoulder. How his cheeks filled with color when he was embarrassed and how he accepted his own faults so easily. Derek had never seemed like the type to just admit defeat, but this morning... It just felt so completely different than it had ever felt before.

"What are you smiling at?" Lydia blinked at him from across the table in the library and he jumped, flipping through the book in front of him and stumbling across his words.

"Uhm- yeah, nothing. Just reading about... uh, bottle nosed dolphins," he shot Lydia a smile, hoping she'd leave him alone about it and subconsciously tried to slow his heart beat even though the girl in front of him was just as human as he was.

She shook her pretty strawberry blonde locks around and her perfectly lined pink lips fell open as she closed the college level psychology book in-front of her. "Well, I have to go pick up Prada from the groomers and stop by Jacksons," she mused through the quiet breath of a sigh. Stiles blinked and nodded hastily, "Oh, yeah, go ahead. See you, uh, see you tomorrow or something. Thanks for studying with me."

It was awkward. The whole situation was awkward and Stiles could feel it like a chill worming its way up his spine. He could speak. His eloquent, although ridiculous ways of putting together sentences was what usually got him out of the terrible situations he tended to launch himself into. But not today. Apparently forming words was not something he could do at this moment.

Lydia grabbed her purse and blinked, pursing her lips together, "Stiles," she started, looking at her feet and then back to the boy sitting before her, "I'm really sorry."

He blinked, cocked his head to the side and shook it back and forth. "What... uh, what exactly are you...?" his voice trailed off when she looked at the announcement board towards the front of the library. There was a candle lit vigil being held in the woods tomorrow night.

"Oh, Heather..." he looked down, picking at the skin around his fingers and chewing nervously on the inside of his lip, "Yeah, thanks Lydia."

She smiled at him but he didn't have the strength to pick his eyes back up and look at her until he heard the tapping of her heels against the floor.

It had been hard. Losing Heather. They were never a thing but the fact that another part of his life was now rotting underground made his stomach turn. Heather and Erica were just the first to go. Next it would be worse. Scott. Allison. Isaac. Derek. His stomach flipped and he took in a shaky breath. Anxiety. Insomnia. What the fuck was next.

He gathered his things and walked outside, throwing his books and bag into the passengers seat of the Jeep before scrounging inside the glove box for the near empty pack of cigarettes.

It hurt. Everything hurt. The anxiety. The panic attacks. The losing sleep. That's actually how it had started after all, wasn't it? The not sleeping. Stiles took a long drag off the cigarette and blinked, leaning heavily on the door of his Jeep. It had started when he couldn't sleep.

It was torture, to flush through the memories. High school had been normal. Everything had been fine. And then it had to go and get completely fucked up by one accidental bite in the middle of the woods. Why the fuck had they even gone out there? Stiles snorted and shook his head back and forth. "Stupid fucking kids," he muttered to himself, dropping the butt of the smoke on the ground and stomping it out, "didn't even know what we were getting ourselves into." More or less what he himself was getting himself into. Who he was getting into.

His heart beat had slowed. That butterfly sound of wings beating heavy had settled into it's normal fluttered pattern.

It was terrifying. Fucking terrifying. Being on the verge of a panic attack was like being at the top of a roller coaster. Except forced. No control. No seat belt. You know that if you roll over the top of that hill that you're going to plunge into the asphalt. Stiles knew the feeling too well.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he dug around for a moment as he opened the driver side door.

_Still coming by tomorrow?_

Stiles blinked and typed 'yes' slowly into the little white box staring brightly back at him on the screen of his phone. Why the fuck was this so nerve racking? They had done this hundreds of times. Nothing changed. Stiles had a panic attack and let Derek try to absorb his emotions one night, that doesn't mean everything has to get complicated.

It was nice to get home. To set his body down into his old sheets and let the comforter envelope him. Long eyelashes danced over his irises and he let them fall closed as he pulled his knees into his chest and tried to keep his thoughts at bay.

Heather was gone. Erica, gone.

His hands slid up to cup over his ears, squeezing them, trying to silence the ringing that was pulsing between his ear drums.

A tear rolled down to the tip of his nose as Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a slow, shaky breath.

That bullet was still being drilled through his skull. Every day. And every night.

* * *

_You make a good batman_

The words echoed through his dream as tired eyes peeled themselves open. The phone on the nightstand rang over and over again. His head was swimming and his eyes stung. Stiles blinked and pawed at his face with the back of his hands, blinking over and over again until the numbers on his clock stopped being blurry.

**2:47 a.m**

He groaned and lazily reached across his bed, swatting the blankets as he did. His fingers pulled the edge of his phone over until he could grab it and pulled it to his face, blinking again at the brightness.

"The fuck, Scott, it's _three_ in the-"

"Stiles! Okay so, uhm, Derek and Isaac- Yes! Yes, I'm on the phone with him right now- Just, just hold on Stiles."

Stiles was stumbling out of bed and his heart was racing as he pulled jeans on and grabbed a red sweat shirt off the ground, tossing it on over his bare chest.

"Scott!"

"Shit! Okay, sorry Stiles, the, the alphas. They got into a fight with the twins out near the old house. Uh, Derek and Isaac are pretty fucked up but we need your Jeep. Derek's car is stuck out in a pot hole in the woods-"

"Are you guys at Derek's?"

"Yeah, yeah we are,"

"I'm coming."

Stiles shoved his phone in the front pocket of his jeans and grabbed the beanie off his dresser, sliding it on as he ran as quietly down the stairs as he could.

His heart was pounding. It felt like bricks were stacked on each of his ribs, weighing down onto his body. His spine tingled and every movement he made he felt in his fingertips. The adrenaline was pushing his nervousness to the brink of what he could normally handle, but it was also masking the panic that was slowly swallowing him.

"He's fine. He'll heal. He's fine. He'll heal."

He breathed evenly, staring at the road as he drove.

"He's fine. H-he'll heal."

His voice started to shake and he scrambled to light a cigarette.

The smoke invaded his lungs and Stiles tapped his foot as he waited at the red light to turn into the parking structure across from Derek's complex.

It was like tunnel vision. Like he was running from something or to something, he didn't even really know. It was like turbulence between his ears. Everything was scrambled into one complex emotion.

He took a drag off the cigarette and swallowed the lump gathering in his throat.

"He's fine. He'll heal."


	5. Stay

**Oh my god this season is crazy. Unleashed had me all in a hussy. But, here is Chapter 5, please review and as always thank you guys for reading!**

* * *

Stiles swung the door to Derek's apartment open. His hands were shaking so much that his keys jingled from between his fingers and he looked around the open space of the loft with wide, eager eyes. Peter sat on the couch with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting against the knuckles of his folded hands.

"Everyone's upstairs, lover boy," the older wolf mused quietly, arching a brow at Stiles who walked passed him. He froze after the last two words set in.

_Lover boy_

Stiles' body whipped to face him before he took his first step up the stairs. He narrowed his eyes, his top teeth sinking into the soft pink flesh of his bottom lip. The shaking was getting worse and his eyes were already stinging from the unwanted tears he spilt running through the parking structure to get here.

"You will say nothing," the words ate through his mouth like pool acid and Stiles closed his eyes, taking in a shaky breath, "or so help me, I will-"

"You'll what, Stiles?"

The boy looked at the prior alpha silently, his hands balled into tight fists.

"I wasn't planning on saying anything to anyone, but by how much I've smelt you on him these passed few months I could only assume that you're dying to get up there so go," he nodded his head towards the stairs and leaned back into the soft sofa.

There wasn't time to discuss this with Peter. Not tonight at least. He should have known better. Stiles should have caught on to this by now. The way Isaac looked at him yesterday. The way him and Peter had always been mildly sarcastic, but always mutually welcoming to him. It never made sense but he assumed it was a pack thing.

Stiles hadn't even thought about the scent he would have been leaving on Derek all this time.

His feet slipped along the iron stair case as he stumbled up them, grasping the banister at the top. He walked hastily towards the two double doors. He didn't stop. He didn't take a moment to breathe or prepare himself. He just opened the doors and walked through, a part of his mind bracing himself for impact and the other racing forward to find whatever it was that hid behind them.

Scott was kneeling down in front of Isaac and Allison was at his side. He turned to look over his shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief when Stiles is what came into view.

"Hey, man, yeah so..."

Stiles walked towards them, his eyes scanning the room for Derek. There was a wood table with a few chairs set around it, a recliner which Isaac was currently occupying and a couch to the right. The rest of the space was empty.

Allison sighed as she placed a cold rag across the open gash on Isaac's stomach. He winced and closed his eyes. Scrapes riddled his face, deep puncture marks rounded his neck.

It was hard to look at the wolf. Wounds from an alpha healed slower than normal cuts and bruises. This would take time and patience, especially if broken bones were involved. It would take the rest of the night for them to recuperate and it would probably take until tomorrow afternoon for them to be completely healed.

Stiles blinked at Scott, waiting for him to continue. His heart was pounding against his rib cage. He could feel it in his throat and in his knees.

"The twins. It seems like they went too far this time... It's gone from trying to piss us off to trying to kill us."

It was hard to concentrate on what was being said, on who was saying what and where the words were going and if any of it made any fucking sense at all. Allison looked over her shoulder and Isaac took in a sharp breath, nudging his chin towards the closed door to the right of the room.

"He's in there, Stiles," his voice was raspy and he closed his eyes, swallowing a mouth full of blood and clearing his throat, "he came to the fucking rescue like always."

Stiles ignored Scott. Ignored his curious glare and his confused voice as he asked where he was going and what was going on. Allison didn't say a word. She just tended to Isaac and shook her head. Maybe Scott really was the only one that didn't know and at this point in time Stiles didn't care much to explain or to hide.

He opened the door and shut it behind him. Scott tried to follow but Isaac interjected, calling him over to the chair with a soft laugh, "C'mon Scott, tell me a joke or something." It was sad, to watch someone go through pain like this.

* * *

Derek was sitting on the edge of the bed inside the room. His jeans hung loose on his hips and he held his face in the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on trembling knees. Stiles stood with his back against the door, his eyes burning furiously with the danger of tears threatening to spill over his cheeks.

Puncture wounds riddled his abdomen and large violet and navy bruises spread across his chest and down his sides. His breathing was even but his body shook as the small fraction of adrenaline left began to diminish. He looked like he had been run over by a damn truck. His lip and eyebrow were split but had already began healing, along with his torn and bloodied knuckles.

It took Stiles a moment to gather himself. To take in exactly what he was looking at.

Words from the past echoed in his mind.

_Scott! He's dying!_

He had held Derek once before when he was dying. Watched him gasp for air and watched the blood run cold in his body. It wasn't as painful then as it is now. It had just started then. Now it seemed like things had matured, progressed, aged. As much as he hated to admit that, Stiles knew it was true. You can only fuck someone for so long before attachment becomes an issue that you have to deal with.

He took a hesitant step forward, letting his eyes flick up and down the battered wolf before him. Derek looked up and his eyes fell open and closed as he tried to focus, licking across his lips and taking in a deep breath.

"You shouldn't be here," it came out quick, like water coming out of a broken faucet. He coughed, blood spraying across the back of his hand which he absent mindedly wiped on his jeans.

Stiles swallowed and his eyes squeezed shut, the familiar sensation of warmth streaking down his cheeks and over his nose.

It was probably the truth. He probably shouldn't be there.

"Derek, c'mon," he walked forward to kneel at the alphas feet, looking across his wounds. They were worse up close. Ribs were obviously broken, his collar bone was fucked up, either fractured or broken itself. Four gashes decorated his well sculpted back and his throat had five deep holes buried within it.

"I'm not even going to ask if you're okay, because I can already see that you aren't. At all. And I'm not going to go into what the fuck happened right now because I can take a good guess and say you don't want to talk about it, so," his voice started to shake but he paused and Stiles swallowed the hot coal that was burning his vocal cords, "what... what can I do? Tell me, please, what can I do..?"

Derek looked away from the boy in front of him, slowly moving to sit up straight. His legs shook when he tried to stand and Stiles got on his feet, taking Derek's arm to help pull him up.

The wolf had still said nothing.

Stiles sniffled and used his free hand to wipe at his eyes. At least he had something to focus on. Something that still convinced him to breathe. The tears were there but his minds occupation with the man in front of him had helped to keep his nerves at bay.

"I don't want you to do anything, you don't have to be here, Stiles."

Derek swallowed, his eyes falling closed as he leaned gently into the boy holding him up, "I'll be fine, just-"

"Yeah, no. No, I'm not leaving. And you're not going to convince me to leave so just shut up and let's get you in the shower." It wasn't the first time Stiles had taken care of Derek but it was the first time that Stiles had done so out of sheer compassion rather than need. He hadn't drove over there to help drag his car out of the mud in the woods and he hadn't went there to hear about what happened. It was worry that drove him. The thought that Derek could have been seriously hurt or that the alphas had done something that he couldn't heal from. He didn't fucking know.

Derek winced when Stiles propped his arm around his shoulder but he didn't protest when he guided him into the attached bathroom. The smaller boy reached over and flicked on the light and reached his foot out to pull the toilet seat down so that Derek could sit while he turned on the shower.

It felt natural. Taking care of people. Taking care of him. After the last year of his life he had became accustomed to blood and injuries and the possibility that death could come knocking at any of his loved ones doors at any time. It was like everyone was in a constant state of hospice and he was their devoted nurse. Especially Derek.

"C'mon, I'll help you up," Stiles reached down, hoisting Derek gently to his feet. He un-buttoned the wolfs jeans and tugged them down which generated a pull at both corners of Derek's mouth.

He didn't say anything as Stiles helped him into the shower and under the hot water. He winced at first as the initial sting seared into the plethora of wounds splattered across his body.

It took Stiles a minute before he discarded of his own clothing and stepped in to join the wolf.

"What- What are you doing?" Derek eyed him carefully, standing stationary under the shower head. Blood pooled at their feet and Stiles sighed, running his fingertips along the alphas chest, inspecting the deep bruising the led up to his jaw which he grasped gently, moving to look at the deep holes in his throat.

"I'm baking a cake, Derek," Stiles answered, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a wash cloth and a bar of soap, lathering it in his hands. Derek looked at the ceiling, cursing at him from under his breath. Stiles didn't mind taking care of him. It was actually a relief taking care of him. It had calmed him down. Relaxed him in the most fucked up sense. He knew he wasn't going to die so playing nurse for the night numbed the usual rising of panic in the base of his stomach.

Derek hated being taken care of. By anyone. Even if it was Stiles. Vulnerability was something he understood and embraced but definitely did not expel unless he absolutely had to.

Stiles washed him. He avoided the deep wounds and was gentle with the obviously sore areas. Derek was tense, prideful. He stared at the wall behind Stiles, letting the water and the boy wash away the nights events.

"Here," Stiles squeezed shampoo into the his palm and wove his fingers into Dereks hair. Derek heaved a sigh, "I'm fine," he breathed, but uncontrollably leaned into his hands. Stiles smiled and shook his head, stepping closer so that his chest was flesh with the wolfs. The water was warm and the steam nurtured both of their bodies quite nicely. Derek wound his arms around Stiles' torso and Stiles hummed softly in return when he rested his forehead against the soft flesh on the smaller boys shoulder.

It was strange. All of this. Seeing Derek so meek and submissive and being in a situation that almost made it seem like they were together. Like they were real.

Stiles was too wound up in the injuries and the early morning exhaustion to lose his shit over the thought of being in a relationship. Or the thought that maybe he cared about Derek more than he imagined and more than he ever wanted to. Those were all things he would deal with tomorrow.

Derek lifted his head and captured Stiles' lips in his own, his hands running tiredly across his hips and up his sides. It was soft and placid, gentle kissing, tired, morose signs of affection.

It was Stiles that pulled away, nudging at Derek's nose with his own, "You need to sleep," he breathed, reaching around the wolf to turn the handle of the shower. The water dissipated and both of them stepped out. The gash on his eyebrow and lip had healed and the slashes down his back were beginning to close. The broken ribs and collar bone would heal soon enough.

It only took a few hesitant moments before Derek found his way to the large bed, easing himself down into the comforters.

Stiles walked towards the door, pulling his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. It had been a long night and it was probably close to sunrise at this point. Facing Scott wasn't something he was looking forward to. His hand grasped the doorknob but before he had a chance to open the door Derek's raspy voice stopped him.

"Stay."

Stiles stared at the door, his heart fluttering tightly against his ribcage.

Now this was something they had never done.

"Stay with me," Derek closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, laying defeated in the bed, "...please."

Stiles turned slowly, watching the wolf carefully from the end of the bed. What was he supposed to do? Walk away from him? That clearly was not an option. He was too tired to object and too emotionally drained to let his nerves control his decision making.

He could have lost him tonight. Came to this loft and found a dead body instead of a battered up bloodied but still breathing man.

He shed his jacket and his pants again and crawled in, pulling the blankets up over the lean muscle hidden underneath the skin of his chest. There were no more words, no tears or pounding hearts. Derek pulled Stiles against him and tucked his head below the boys chin. He was like a fucking baby. A hurt, sore, tired baby. And Stiles wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes.

They had never slept together before. Never fallen asleep together. It was the most intimate thing the two had shared indefinitely and Stiles knew that when he woke up in the morning he would have hell to pay for ignoring the panic waiting to surface.

But for now he breathed evenly and Derek drew circles on his back with his fingertips and they fell asleep as the sun rose over the trees across the eastern woods.


	6. Knock Knock

**Kind of a late update and I'm not super proud of this chapter but here it is! I hope you guys enjoy, next chapter will be much more in-depth, thanks as always for all the reviews and favorites/follows!**

* * *

Sunlight poured through the seam of the bedroom door and Stiles woke to fingertips dragging lightly from his hips to his belly button and back again. His mind hummed as he blinked his eyes open, hands moving down to find the reason behind the gentle touch at his waist band. His fingers wound around Derek's strong shoulders as he scraped his chin along Stiles' abdomen, making the boy squirm sleepily against the warm sheets.

"Well, good morn-" the boys breath hitched and his head tilted back, mouth falling open. Red and white spots filled his vision and Stiles gripped at the comforter, a tired laugh trickling from between his lips. "_Jesus Christ_, Der," his voice was raspy and he whimpered softly into the interrupted stillness of the morning, "I swear you're my new fucking religion."

Derek had blown him plenty of times, that was for sure. But it was never palpable. Never sensual. It was just fucking, just sex and passion all wound into some strange excuse for emotion. Both of them had kept each other at arms length when it came to getting invested and now that the two of them were taking shelter on the un-steady ground of whatever it is they had- it seemed real. Maybe it was different because it wasn't just his body feeling it this time around.

The wolf dug his nails into Stiles' hips, holding him down with a strong arm draped over his stomach. The boys back arched and he whined when Dereks mouth left him.

"Good morning," his voice was hoarse and he pulled himself up, his lips dragging across Stiles' chest as he made his way to defined collar bones and sank his teeth down. The boy wound his fingers into thick messy locks and tugged, guiding Derek's mouth to his own. It was a needy kiss. One of those 'thank-god-you're-fucking-alive' types of things. Mind-blowing and deep, something both of them got completely lost in. It was so early and already Stiles' heart was pounding against his rib cage. At least this time is wasn't panic or nerves or anxiety, it was Derek and the way his hands wound around him and picked him up, the way he gripped his thighs and pulled his legs around his waist. It fluttered deep and frantic, those butterfly wings, and it was the man holding him that caused such madness within him.

The wolf broke the kiss, his nails digging into the supple skin of the boys waist. He bumped his nose against Stiles', his eyes glowing red.

He had healed. That was quite obvious.

"What do you want?" he growled, gripping into the delicate skin harder as he pulled the lean and sculpted body further against him. Stiles took in a sharp breath, licking over his lips as he stared back into the heated gaze of the alpha. It was disgusting how those red eyes gave a pull at his groin. It made the boy feel powerful. Wanted. Needed. To have the ability to lure Derek's wolf out was something that turned him on more than anything else. It was beautiful to be the reason the usually level-headed wolf lost control.

He gripped the sides of Derek's face, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and clamping down. "I want you to fuck me as hard as you can," the words came out breathy and winded and Derek's nails dug deeper into the boys back as he said them. Stiles wasn't the gentle lover he was last night, nor was Derek the wounded pup. This was the first time they had ever spoken during sex, besides the occasional, _please_, _more_, and so on. Stiles blushed furiously as the thought crossed his mind. This was the first time he had actually been comfortable enough to talk to him like he was _his_.

Derek gasped when Stiles bit down on his throat and grinded his body against the lean figure currently being held against him.

The alpha's head tilted back and he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the loud sound of a foot kicking the bedroom door wide open.

* * *

**"I can not fucking take it anymore!"**

Scott stood in the door way with his hands flat across his eyes, shielding them from whatever it is they were doing that he really did not want to witness.

Stiles gasped and fell back onto the bed, scrambling to pull the sheets over his very naked and very aroused body. Derek, however, rolled his eyes and slid to the edge of the mattress, reaching down to grab his jeans.

Scotts chest was heaving up and down and Stiles was cursing as Derek handed him his pants and sweatshirt from the floor.

"**Really, Scott?! **Are you fucking _kidding_ me right now? Knocking works, it works really well according to most people," Stiles cheeks were flushed red and he was shaking with the adrenaline from what he was doing just moments before and from the embarrassment and anger that was currently boiling inside him.

Isaac peeked his head around the corner and raised a brow, a sheepish grin spreading across his face, "you two are adorable. Whose babe and whose baby?" He chuckled under his breath and Scott swatted him in the chest, a scowl crossing over his boyish features. Derek raised a brow, looking over his shoulder as he stood and walked towards the door, "Deucalion wants me to kill you and right now I'm considering it."

Isaac covered his smirk with his palm and shook his head before ducking back into the upstairs living room. Scott lifted his eyes to stare at Derek, his mouth pursed into a hard line. The younger wolf trembled, his fingers curled into tight fists with golden eyes locked onto the alpha, who was thoroughly amused by his show of power. There was no need to say anything to the pup while he was this angry and Derek simply placed his hand on Scotts shoulder, squeezing it softly as he passed by.

Stiles had his back to his best friend, his heart still hammering against his chest as he sat on the edge of the bed. How does he explain this? How the fuck does he even start explaining this? His mind buzzed with options, raced with excuses and every single thing he found to say just sounded so completely ridiculous in his head.

Scott stood stationary in the door way, his fists clenching and un-clenching as he stared at the ground.

This had been the day that Stiles had been avoiding and dreading since him and Derek had first started this. It was something he figured would start and end and never happen of or be spoken of but obviously nothing is that simple in his life. He held his face in his hands, moving his fingers up to grip his hair. The frustration was killing him and his anxiety was spiking more and more as they sat in the tension filled silence.

"I..." his voice shook and Stiles took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, "Scott, I- I don't even know how to explain, but if you just give me-"

"I just heard you ask Derek to _fuck_ you as hard as he can and you think you can just _explain_ this to me?" He was laughing. A choked, exasperated laugh and Stiles couldn't help but let a chuckle out himself. It was all laughable wasn't it? This entire situation. Scott didn't know about the on-going anxiety or the panic attacks or the attempted suicide. He didn't know about the fucking or the pain or the sacrifice or the late-night visits or the coffee. Stiles wanted so bad to be able to scream that it was none of his business but that wouldn't be fair.

That wouldn't be fair in the slightest.

"Did he-" Scott swallowed and looked over his shoulder at Derek who was currently stirring sugar into two cups of coffee, "did he _make_ you do this?"

The alpha stopped and the muscles in his arms flexed.

Stiles was on his feet before Scott even finished his sentence and stumbled over himself to get in-between the two wolves. Derek barred his teeth, red eyes fixed on Scott who snarled back at the alpha. The very vulnerable and very human boy placed his back to Derek's chest and held his arms out, holding Scott from leaning closer to the much more powerful wolf behind him.

"**No**! No, _no_, no- not even like that at _all_, just," Stiles rolled his eyes, pushing his back further into Derek's chest as he snarled over his shoulder at Scott. "It almost hurts my feelings that you think so lowly of me," Derek growled at the younger wolf.

Stiles turned quickly to face the alpha and placed his hands firmly against his chest, "Der, please, just give me a minute to talk to him. Just fucking go do push ups or something," his words came out rushed and desperate and he hoped to whatever god is out there that Derek could see that he was frantic and worried. The wolf backed up slowly, eyes still on Scott before he looked back to Stiles and huffed an irritated sigh, "got you coffee," he muttered softly, shrugging towards the table before he turned and walked down the metal stairs.

Stiles waited for Derek to leave the room before pushing Scott's chest and shaking his head furiously, "Are you fucking kidding me? Yes, okay, I am sleeping with Derek. It's been going on for a while now and I don't even really know how it started. I like guys. I like him." His words fell out of his mouth in waves and his hands trembled and his body shook. His heart was fluttering again and he stared at Scott and then the ground and then back to Scott who binked back at him.

The wolf looked completely confused as he processed the very little but very interesting and shocking information his best friend had supplied.

Stiles was bracing himself for impact. To be punched or screamed at. He was waiting for whatever Scott was going to say that would devastate him and end their friendship or his pack or cause a complete and utter melt down between him and his alpha. Something. Anything.

"I didn't know how to tell you, Scott," he blurted the words and took in breath after breath, starring at his friend and shaking his head back and forth again.

It took a moment. A few, actually. Before Scott walked passed Stiles and said nothing. His silence was the worst kind of punishment. Stiles listened to him go, listened as his heavy footsteps slam against the stairs and heard him call to Isaac before the large metal door slid closed.

It felt like someone had plunged their hand through his chest and was pulling his ribs apart.

He knew this would happen. Knew it would come to this.

Some glimpse of hope was still buried in his mind that kept repeating '_he needs time, don't worry he'll come around, it's not that big of a deal._' But realistically it was a big deal and Stiles had no idea just how much time Scott would need. And once again it was just more stress piled on top of this group of completely fucked up young adults. This time it was his fault.

A warm hand brushed against Stiles fingertips. He had been standing motionless for a few minutes and his eyes never left the ground.

Derek pulled at his hand, making the smaller boy fall gently against his torso.

"Just give him a day, Stiles," the wolfs voice was soft and his breath was warm against his cheek, "I'll talk to him."

Stiles turned, looking up at Derek and then back down to the floor. There was nothing left to say, really. No words or options and no escape plans or excuses. Everything was out in the open and as devastating as it was it almost felt like Stiles could breathe a little easier.

"You like me," Derek whispered, nipping playfully at his jaw. Stiles rolled his eyes and turned away from the alpha, a light smile ghosting across his face.

"Yes, I like you," Stiles repeated, eyeing him wearily. This was another first for him, coming out to his best friend. Or more or less dropping a nuke on Scott after a night of blood shed. He felt like a complete shit head for the choices he'd made. For not telling Scott and for being stupid enough to think he just might be able to get it passed him that nothing was going on between him and the wolf after he had stormed in last night.

It was confusing. What he felt. Between being relieved and angry, to hurt and in complete dismay over the disapproval of someone so close to him. But for now all he needed to do was breathe and hope to fucking god that Scott gave him a chance to explain. Really explain.

Derek reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone reading a text that had just buzzed in his jeans.

_Doing damage control._

He flashed the text from Isaac to Stiles and the boy nodded slowly, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

"C'mon," Derek started, pulling Stiles' elbow gently towards the table where the cup harboring the sweetened luke-warm coffee still sat, "you're coffee's probably cold."


	7. Feelings

**I got a review saying that it's hard to kinda grasp the order of things and timing and I totally understand. This was a silly drabble I had wrote that I decided to keep going into a story so thank you for being so patient and for all your kind words and follows! I've decided to take this in its own direction, which the next chapter will describe slightly. Sorry for it taking seven fucking chapters for me to actually get an idea for a plot or a twist XD This chapter is long and weird and I don't really know how I feel about it, it just kind of happened. Consider it a filler I guess. Thanks for reading!**

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The morning had gone from on fire to completely stale. Nothing was calm, even as Stiles laid on that soft blue couch with his head propped on Derek's lap. It didn't seem like anything would really come back full circle. It just felt like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff and no matter which way he fell the rocks at the bottom were going to chew up his body and break his bones and end his sad excuse for an existence.

Soft amber eyes fell closed and the smaller boy took in a heavy breath before exhaling slowly. The last few months had been hell but the past couple weeks had been more confusing and more tolling than any other period in his short seventeen years.

_Stiles! Don't forget your lunch!_

His eyes stung horribly and he reached up to lay the back of his hand over his eyes. He knew the wolf could hear his heart, could feel all the muscles in his body suddenly cramp. But talking about his mother wasn't something that he could do. Not now. Not tomorrow. Probably not even a year from now.

It felt like burning coals were settled at the pit of his stomach. Each time he thought about how fucked up his life was it was the memories of her and the sound of her voice that interrupted him.

It was probably her voice that had driven him to run to Derek that night in the woods when the moon wasn't shining through the clouds.

It was always her that reminded him that life meant something.

But he always fought that distant echo with blind and stupid rebellion.

The complete lack of self control, insomnia and paranoia probably didn't help much but none of that mattered anymore anyways. The panic. Like scalpels being scraped against the webbing of his fingers and toes. The nerves. Like being held over an endless tank of water with the inability to swim. The anxiety. Like trying to breathe with someone squeezing your lungs like those stress balls you can buy at CVS.

Stiles was shaking and he didn't know it. He shielded his eyes and chewed on his bottom lip like it would save his life.

Warm fingers found their way to his free hand which rested against his stomach and Derek pulled it gently, flipping it over and laying it against his thighs where the back of Stiles' head was nestled. The alphas fingertips were calloused and worn but he dragged them across the boys palm and the inside of his arm like they were flower petals. It was strange. Hypnotic. And soon the wolf's voice invaded the silence.

"Talk to me," he said quietly as he tickled his index finger and his thumb down the side of Stiles' arm.

His stomach was in knots but Stiles swallowed back the lump in his throat and spoke, "Remember the first night? It was like right when school started last year and you were wearing that stupid black sweater?"

Derek laughed and rolled his eyes but nodded and said yes as he waited for Stiles to continue.

"I, like, attacked you and you were super surprised," he's laughing now, along with his words and still covered his eyes with the back of his hand. "You're the third person I've ever kissed and-" he laughed again and sucked in a sharp breath, "I literally had _no_ idea what I was doing, like I think I was about as un-sexy as calculus." They were both laughing now. Derek still playing with the delicate skin on the inside of Stiles' arm and listening as intently as he could to the boy spill his thoughts.

"You seemed confident," the wolf interjected, lacing his fingers briefly with the hand laying across his thigh. Stiles smiled sheepishly and shook his head, finally moving the hand covering his eyes and letting it fall to his side on the couch.

"And then there were all those times in the Camaro and in the woods and at _school_," he choked on laughter as the last word fell from between his lips and Derek squeezed his eyes shut, laughing silently along with the boy in his lap.

It felt like he was confronting demons. Like every time he reminisced on a time with the alpha that it became more than what it was. It was funny how easily it was to trick the mind into believing that something was real. Or was becoming real. Or, fuck, he didn't even know what was real anymore.

Stiles just knew that Derek was warm and he was laughing too, and it felt good to talk and to laugh.

But it got quiet as they continued, Stiles telling stories about them and Derek listening. Every once in a while he would throw something in that would make Stiles arch into his own laughter and squirm into the cushions on the couch. It got quiet as he kept going and inched closer and closer to the visit that both of them were waiting for.

"And then..." Stiles stopped, his eyes were watering from laughing and he stared at the ceiling like it also had secrets to spill. But he knew that they had to talk about it. That he had to say something.

"I, uh," his voice cracked and he shifted to stare off into the dimly lit bottom story of the loft, "I asked you to kill me." It was silent again. Like it was that night. His heart fluttered, its wings beating against the lack of noise.

He felt Derek tense and the wolf momentarily stopped stroking Stiles' arm, but hesitantly continued after a moment.

"And then you made me feel like I was someone that night in my jeep," his voice was fading into a whisper and Derek just sat there, looking down at him even though Stiles didn't have the courage to look back. "You brought me coffee like you were some big stupid werewolf boyfriend and I didn't know what to do so I just resorted to being awkward since, obviously that has worked so incredibly well for me throughout high school," Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed but Derek could hear his heart beat begging him to stop. The boys cheeks were flushed and his eyes burnt as they filled with salt water. His lips shook as Derek pinched the tip of his pinky finger. Patience must be something that wolves develop because if the roles were reversed Stiles would be screaming at him by now.

"Then you almost died, you almost fucking died," his voice was a whisper and he pulled his arm away and sat up. Derek shifted his weight and watched as Stiles buried his head in his hands and sniffled to himself.

_Get it together_

_You look like a stupid little fucking boy_

Stiles body trembled and he clenched and unclenched his fists in the soft short locks of hair he had been growing out.

This was almost as hard as coming out to Scott. Almost as hard as lying daily to his father. Almost as hard as seeing Derek hold Ericas body in his arms. Because everything revolved around them and he wanted so badly just to turn it off. But he couldn't. Something inside him just couldn't.

It was when Derek reached for him that he caved.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Derek, for fucking _**everything**_," his words were sobs and his face crumbled as the wolf pulled him roughly into his chest. Stiles wrapped his legs around the mans waist and gripped at his shirt, trying desperately to catch his breath. It wouldn't stop. He couldn't catch the words as they clawed their way up his throat.

"I'm sorry that I'm a complete idiot and I'm sorry that I did that to you," he picked himself up from hiding in the strong chest he was taking shelter in and gripped the sides of Derek's face, his palms flinching at the scrape of uneven stubble. He rubbed his forehead against the alphas whose arms gripped the lean body on his lap. The usually cold eyes that Derek sported so well were wide and he blinked, shaking his head as Stiles spoke.

"I'm sorry that I was that selfish and that ridiculous and I'm sorry that I took everything in my life out on you and I'm sorry that I couldn't handle anything on my own and-" his words were crashing down and he sucked in a shaky breath through his tears, "I hate that I didn't just ask to go get _food _with you like a normal person does and I'm sorry that you had to almost die for me to say all of this. I was scared, I'm still fucking scared and I don't know what to do about anything in my life, and I haven't filled out any college applications and you're beautiful, okay. I just," his nails dug into Derek's throat who was too bewildered to say anything at all and was busy holding Stiles' face and making a feeble attempt at removing the tears from his cheeks with his rough and callused thumbs.

"You're beautiful and when you started being nice to me I couldn't handle it. I wanted you to be fake. I wanted it all to be fake," his voice was still shaking but Stiles had calmed himself and as his chest twitched with the aftermath of crying as hard as he just had, and he let his hands fall to rest on the wolfs chest. "I wanted us to be fake so that I wouldn't have to deal with losing someone," his eyes finally fell into the gaze that was staring back at him and the large strong hands that were now settled on his neck.

Stiles opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted as the wolf pulled his face roughly into his own. Their teeth clanked together. It was messy and rough and passionate and filled with grateful whines from Stiles and even a few from Derek. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders, grinding his body needily into the alphas who broke the kiss and pressed his hands against the boys lower back.

"I should have-" Dereks words were cut off as Stiles covered his mouth with his own in another hard kiss which he returned for a moment before pushing Stiles chest gently and tugging his face away.

"Stiles," he said his name forcefully and the boy blinked, relaxing momentarily as he pressed his chest flesh to Dereks.

"Just..." the wolf let his eyes fall closed and he took in a breath, cracking them open to look at Stiles from under long dark lashes, "stop apologizing."

Stiles watched him carefully before nodding and leaning his forehead back down against Dereks.

"I'm sorry for being crazy," the boy said quietly. Derek rolled his eyes and a smile tugged at his lips. The alpha wanted to growl and tell him once again to stop apologizing but instead moved his hand up the back of Stiles' sweatshirt to feel the soft skin underneath.

"I'm sorry for not telling you I had feelings for you after the first month you started coming around. I didn't want to scare you away."

Derek never said much. He was always pretty collected and level-headed and patient. He was the back-bone of there little pack and Stiles didn't blame him for going along with what Stiles had started. It was obvious that the young adult was damaged and it was even more obvious that if Derek would have said a damn thing that he would have ran and probably done something more stupid than starting a heated affair with the alpha of your local werewolf pack.

Stiles blinked at him and his mouth fell open.

That word.

**_Feelings._**

Panic ran up his spine and he couldn't decipher whether he should climb off his lap and run away or take all of his clothes off as fast as he could.

Derek was literally the most confusing thing that Stiles had ever felt.

But before he could speak or flee or fuck the wolf he was currently straddling the large metal door to the loft began to slide open.

Stiles sat back on Dereks knees, his thighs on either sides of the wolfs lap. It wasn't even worth it to try and scramble off him or to act like he was still in shock or ashamed that someone knew about them. That part was over and as Scott and Isaac walked through into the loft neither of them moved. Dereks hand was gently stroking Stiles' waist and the boy let his hands fall from his chest to his side and he looked shyly over to Scott who was staring at the floor.

At least they were clothed this time.

"You really have _awesome_ timing, buddy," Stiles was trying his best to lighten the situation. He was spent. Emotionally out-of-order and it was a huge relief to see Scott shove his hands in his pockets and nod with his head towards the door. "Let's talk," he muttered softly. Stiles' heart fluttered in his chest and he nodded with more force than he had meant to. He stood up on the couch and jumped down over Dereks lap, looking over his shoulder at the alpha who nudged his jaw towards Scott, urging him to go.


	8. Mate

**Okay guys, new chapter. It's a little short but feedback would be greatly appreciated! Also I recently started another racey Sterek fic called Chasing The Dragon. If you like this one, go check out the first chapter pretty please :] as always thank you for reading!**

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It was nerve racking walking down the street with Scott. Stiles peeked over at him from time to time but he just stared ahead as they took step after step towards the local coffee shop. It was downtown next to the vintage shop where Stiles bought that beat up old red sweatshirt and the beanie he wore every other day. The tension between them was palpable but he'd rather Scott be angry at him and in his life than not in it at all. It was an awkward trip, both of them sighing every once in a while before they finally walked through the doors of the Beacon Hills Drip.

"Uhm, green tea," Stiles murmured to the barista, turning to Scott who ordered some blended chocolate thing that made Stiles' teeth hurt just thinking about it. Stiles offered to pay but Scott shook his head and the corners of his mouth twitched into a contained smile, which in turn made a wave of relief flood through Stiles.

They sat outside and Stiles dug in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and hesitantly lighting it. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that is almost scared of itself.

Stiles takes a drag off his cigarette.

Scott takes a sip off his drink.

It stays quiet.

"Scott, man, look-"

"Ah! No! I have a plan! I planned this out in my head, shut up!"

Scott interrupts him with a shout and Stiles jumps slightly, blinking wide eyes over at his best friend and trying to contain the laughter bubbling at the base of his throat.

That was something Scott would do. He would take an entire conversation and go through it over and over in his head until it sounded right. He'd perfect every line and even rehearse the expressions on his face because he knew that if he didn't he'd have this strained overly focused look on his face the whole time. Stiles knew exactly what he was doing. They had talked about it time and time again. Unlike his best friend, Stiles was just really good at either blurting things out and making them sound pretty or completely losing his words and sitting in a state of catatonic panic.

He nursed on his cigarette and watched the wolf stare at the wooden table top. Scott would open his mouth and then force it shut again. Open. Shut. Open. And then finally words started to spill out.

"I understand," that was the first thing that he said and it threw Stiles for a loop but he sat quiet and listened, "I do, really. It's just... We're best friends, man, like fuck, you could have told me. You could have said something. Derek's my alpha and he didn't say anything and this has been apparently going on for a while, like a long while."

He looked at Stiles and Stiles blinked, his eyes fluttering away from the guilt that was now stacking itself on his shoulders.

"I don't... I mean, I do, I get it. _Really_..." he growled the last word and Scott took a sip off the blended coffee in his hand, "I just wish you would have felt comfortable telling me. I wanted to be excited for you, I wanted to be a part of it, hell, go on double dates and-"

That's when Stiles interjected. He interjected very quickly.

"Whoa, no, we just got kind of serious like a week ago, Scott, before then it, uh... It wasn't like dating, it was just kind of-"

"Sex," Scott interrupted with a smile, lifting his dark brows and tilting his head to the side.

Stiles was taken a back but he couldn't help but laugh and nod, taking a drag off his cigarette and dropping it to the ground. The warmth that was filling his bones felt so incredible. To laugh with Scott about this had been all he wanted, to be honest and in the open and for Scott to not be punching him in the face or _god forbid_ trying to punch Derek in the face. It was one of those times that the fleeting nerves weren't going to send him into a panic attack, and his anxiety wasn't skyrocketing to Saturn. Stiles was just nervous and okay and hopeful. That alone was a relief.

"Yes," Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes and looking back to Scott with flushed cheeks, "it was just sex. Great sex. And comfort. And pain. I needed... to feel something, and he was there, and I guess he needed to feel something too."

Scott looked down, a grimace cascading down from his brows to his chin.

Stiles swallowed uncomfortably and reached in his pocket to light another cigarette, "Sorry, man... I, yeah, I guess that's a little too much information, huh?"

Scott shook his head and cleared his throat, looking down to his phone when it lit up. He immediately ignored the text.

"It isn't that..." he paused and watched Stiles take a drag off the cigarette and tap it with his index finger. The ash dropped gently into the tray in the middle of the table. "I just want you to be happy and safe and I want what's best for you," Scott said it proudly and eagerly and he smiled at Stiles who smiled back.

"But if he hurts you I'm going to kill him and then_ I'll_ be the alpha."

Stiles choked on his laughter and Scott laughed along with him. It wasn't even Scott being an over-protective pup that made Stiles laugh or the threat to kill Derek and become alpha, even though that alone was funnier than most things, it was that he thought _Derek was the one who would hurt Stiles. _His heart started sputtering and Stiles shook his head, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down. The last thing he needed was getting Scott involved in his personal issues. He didn't need to know about the panic attacks. The suicide attempt. The nightmares or the anxiety. He knew about the cigarettes, the sex, and the fact that the sex was with Derek and that alone was impressive.

Scott looked forlorn as he stared down at his phone. It felt tense again. The kind of tension that made people twitch and make agitated gestures towards random objects. It was something. Something important and Scott was holding back. He was holding something back and Stiles grinded his teeth together. How would he ask? How _could _he ask after the secret that he'd kept for over a year now?

"Scott..." Stiles tested the waters, prodding with his eyes at his friend who sat across the table looking like he'd rather be hit by a truck than let the words out that he had contained. Something in that text. _Someone _had said _something_.

How could one day be filled with so many ups and downs? Waking up to the offer of awesome morning sex with Derek to being caught by Scott and then crying in Derek's face for an hour before being caught yet again and then hashing everything out and laughing it off, to this. Tension. Again.

His heart beat started to quicken as the wolf refused to speak. Stiles picked at his nail beds and chewed on his bottom lip.

"Stiles..."

He looked up at his friend from under long dark lashes and swallowed against an itchy throat. The nerves were back. His heart was pounding against his chest and he instantly regretted everything that had gone on. Scott should have never found out and him and Derek should have stopped this shit a long time ago. It was all too good to be true, much to good to be true. It ripped at his ribs and bit at his spine and Stiles hated every minute. He knew Scott wouldn't be able to accept it. It would take forever to earn back his trust and-

"Have you ever read about the bond that's created when a werewolf finds their mate?"

Screeching brakes.

"**Wait**. What the _fuck_ did you just say?"

* * *

"I texted him to make sure he brought it up," Isaac looked over at Derek who was doing pull-ups. The alphas eyes flashed red and he dropped to his feet, walking hastily over towards the beta seated on his couch.

"**What**?!"

Isaac cowered from Derek's harsh voice and held his hands up in a mock surrender, raising his brows and looking at the ground, "Derek, he needs to know. He needs to fully understand what's going on and what's going to happen, you can't keep him in the dark-"

"I wanted him to _want _to be with me because he _wanted _to be with me, Isaac. Not because of some fucked up stupid bond. I wanted him to fall in _love _with me. I wanted to make him fucking dinner some time soon and not scare him away!"

Isaac looked down and shook his head, sighing softly as he flipped his phone between his hands.

"You know it's not that simple," Isaac was whispering now because he had never seen Derek so upset. The alpha wasn't even angry he was just hurt and confused and being Pack meant feeling all of that as one. It hurt. Isaac could see that. He could see it in the way Derek had his thumb and his index finger pressed against his temples and how his bottom lip twitched.

"I wanted to tell him myself. When it was the right time. He's not ready for this, he could barely handle me bringing him coffee, do you really think explaining this to him is going to make him _understand_ it? I know Stiles. I know him really fucking well and he's been..." his voice trailed off. Like it got stuck in his throat. The strongest of them all was crumbling and that didn't sit well with Isaac. Surely it didn't sit well with anyone who knew Derek even in the slightest.

Isaac stood and walked towards his alpha who was trembling and staring out the window. The California sky was as blue as always and the sun shone through onto the smooth floor of the loft.

"He's Pack... He's been Pack for a while and if you two are mates then you have to give him the bite, Derek, it has to happen, it-"

Derek slammed his fist against the wooden table next to them, red eyes shooting towards Isaac who cowered once more.

That wasn't an option. Not now. Stiles was too young and going through too much within himself to handle that. Derek knew that. He knew it the night he showed up at his old ash ridden home. He knew it that morning when Stiles' tears coated his chest.

Derek bit back the lump growing in his throat. Weakness was not something he took shelter in.

Isaac cleared his throat as his alpha turned to walk towards the metal staircase leading to his bedroom. He stopped and peered over his shoulder. Isaac was relieved to be greeted with soft brown eyes rather than the fury from before. He sighed gently, "I told Scott," it was a small statement but it tugged at the sides of Derek's mouth ever so slightly, "I told him and he didn't freak out, he just said he needed some time to think. You and Stiles... you have history, at least you don't just have all these feelings kicking you in the ass out of no where."

Derek couldn't say much to that and nodded to Isaac as he continued to walk up the stairs.

These old world traditions. Bonding. Chemical reactions. It was something none of them could resist. Something that happened when a Pack became stronger, when an alpha was chosen, there were so many triggers. It just seemed like all of them had been pushed at the same time. He took out his phone and hesitantly opened a blank message.

To- Stiles Stilinski:

_Just let me cook you dinner and we'll talk about this. Please don't run from me._

Message sent


	9. Don't you dare

**Okay guys. Here's the next chapter. Thank you so much for reading :] Reviews are always loved so very much! **

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Stiles had seen the devastation of car crashes. How when something that heavy goes speeding into something of equal density and weight that it causes massive damage. The sounds. Metal clashing against metal. That familiar crunch that became the backdrop to screeching tires against asphalt and heads slamming into steering wheels. Glass shattering. Airbags deploying. They were brutal and nasty and everyone his father had ever questioned always said relatively the same thing.

_It all happened so fast. _

That was how it felt.

He sat with eyes on the table and his hand loosely settled around the luke warm cup of green tea. Scott had rambled on and on about things Stiles wasn't listening to, things that he was ignoring for the time being. He flipped through every memory in his head. Every time he saw the word _mate_, every time he read it on some stupid fucking web site or in some book or when it was mentioned by anyone. Nothing. Not a single thing.

It made sense, really, seeing as Stiles had never had an inkling to look up the word itself or read anything that had to do with it since it didn't have anything to do with their life. With the Packs life. With his fucking life. But now... What the fuck does it even mean?

Feelings. Relationship. This was not what he signed up for and not what he had came to Derek for in the first place. It was just... timing. He was there and so was Stiles and they both just... collided. Like a fucking car crash on a busy highway, flipping and tumbling and breaking apart and taking a few people with them in the process. His heart beat accelerated. Breathing labored. He closed his eyes and leaned his head into his hands, murmuring about how fucked up everything was and how desperately he needed a drink. Scott watched, swallowing the itch in his throat that told him to keep speaking.

Stiles trembled when he lit yet another cigarette and he closed his eyes, that anxious feeling settling itself right underneath his ribcage where his lungs met his stomach. Everything was so fucked up. It had been fucked up for a while now and ever since him and Derek had started this shit he had a feeling that something would happen. He thought it was death. He was convinced it was death from the get go. Erica. Heather. It just made sense and when it came down to it, Stiles knew that last night wouldn't be the last time that Derek got hurt. His throat constricted. His heart fluttered in his chest.

"Stiles, listen to me," Scott leaned forward and tapped loudly on the table in front of them. The boy looked up through glassy amber eyes and stared at the young wolf.

"Listen to what, Scott? Is it happily ever after? Are me and Derek going to raise a fucking litter of _puppies _together? You've got to be fucking _kidding _me!"

Scott growled and slammed the palm of his hand against the table, their drinks shaking and the ash tray clattering loudly against the wooden top.

"Listen!" His voice commanded attention and as much as Stiles wanted to scream in his face and stalk back to his car he knew that his best friend didn't deserve to be treated that way. It wasn't his fault that Derek had neglected to mention this little piece of information during the time they spent together. He looked up at Scott and chewed anxiously on his bottom lip, peeling at the chapped skin and wishing to god he could run out of Beacon Hills and not look back. The thought of it made his stomach tense and that feeling alone made him want to put a gun in his mouth now that he knew why it was there.

The anxiety. The panic. The nerves. It was all amplified.

"I'm sure Derek wants to explain this to you, it isn't like he doesn't actually have feelings for you. He does, I know he does, he's spoken to Isaac about it before. But this... There is a lot more to all of this than you or I could possibly understand. It's a chemical reaction between wolves, it happens from time to time and it's kind of one of those things you just have to embrace or tolerate."

Stiles was seething. His anger heated the air and he breathed heavily, and stomped out his cigarette before continuing to pick at his nails. He wanted Scott to stop talking. He wanted to go to his house, steal one of his Dads old bottles of whiskey and go hide down in the woods.

It was just supposed to be fucking. It was supposed to be a release. It was supposed to be a shared commitment of non-commitment. Not this.

_chemical reaction between wolves_

"Wait..." Stiles took in a breath, calming himself down for the moment, "I'm.. I'm human, this shouldn't be affecting me," he closed his eyes and opened them, speaking so lowly that he could hardly hear the words himself. Scott could hear them though and he shook his head in response. Stiles could see him physically trying to form words. Trying to make sense out of the situation that had been thrown at him. Honestly none of this was Scotts fault or his problem and as that had began to sink in, Stiles felt even more terrible for his reaction. This wasn't his friends doing. This was his doing. This was _their _doing.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and it felt like needles were being thrust into his spine. One right after the other. Derek. He knew it was Derek and everything inside him said do not fucking look at your phone. But Stiles had a strange habit of doing exactly what he told himself not to. A good example of that impulsive behavior being the web of confusion he was trapped in.

_Just let me cook you dinner and we'll talk about this. Please don't run from me._

Scott watched him look at his phone and watched as his mouth fell open and he rolled his eyes which were currently filling with tears.

It was like every instance was breaking through the confines of his mind. Everything they had spoken of this morning. The times Derek and Stiles had been together had always been pushed off as being less important than they were and now that he thought back, it was heart-breaking. They couldn't keep their hands off each other. They couldn't be away from each other. They were drawn to each other.

Scott licked over his lips and looked across to Stiles who looked devastated and confused and angry and hurt all at once. The wolf could see every emotion coating his face.

"Stiles," he paused and waited for his friend to look up, a stray tear leaking from the corner of his eye, "when's the last time you texted Lydia."

It was a statement.

_Proof_.

He was making a point.

And that was when Stiles had enough.

He was up and walking before Scott had a chance to say another word. It was a good enough point to make Stiles panic and flee. Lydia had been his world. She had been everything before Derek. Everything and more. But as soon as Stiles had felt the alphas body against his own and the heat of his tongue stroking behind his teeth it was as if the earth spun backwards and the moon fell from the sky. Nothing had occupied him like Derek did and as much as he wanted to lie and say that there were no feelings invested between the two of them, he couldn't.

Scott didn't follow. He stayed where he was and dialed a number on his phone, lifting it and pressing it to his ear.

* * *

He hadn't realized where he was going until he ended up in front of the large steel door of the loft. His breathing was labored and he slapped the tears away from his face. His hands shook and his legs twitched and he couldn't keep his heart beat under control. Those butterfly wings were beating so fast he could hardly stand it. It felt like someone was pulling on the tendons behind his kneecaps and pinching the tissue between each of his vertebrae.

Derek could hear him. He knew Derek could hear him.

Stiles pulled at the handle and the door slid open.

Derek was standing on the other side, his thumbs shoved in the front pockets of his jeans and his eyes cast down at the cement floor. Stiles' breath hitched. It was like staring at something so immensely breath-taking and wanting so badly for it to be revolting. His stomach flipped and he swallowed the fire burning his esophagus. Just last night he had held Derek through the night as his bones snapped back together and his skin stitched itself closed and now... this.

The alpha caught the fist that was aimed at his jaw and squeezed it, dark eyes falling closed. A heavy sigh fell across his lips and Stiles squirmed and thrashed until the older man let go of his hand. Stiles was shaking and he shoved passed Derek and into the dim loft. The sky was a multitude of colors as the sun dipped behind the trees to the west. Time had gone by so fucking fast. Everything was happening so fucking fast.

"Stiles..."

Dereks voice was just barely above a whisper.

"Just... listen to me, please, I know this is-"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Stiles was yelling. His cheeks were flushed and he couldn't control the tremble in his legs. The air was still and the room was warm and it felt like time had finally stopped for a minute. Derek looked at him and Stiles looked back and it hurt. It hurt like it did the night Derek fractured his wrist. And it hurt like the day that Derek pinned him down in the school bus. And it hurt like the night Stiles sank his teeth into the alpha and drew blood. And it hurt like the night that Stiles wanted to die because he could not grasp what life was when death was all he had known.

"You want _me _to listen to _you_? You want me to sit here and listen to you try to explain why I feel the way I do? Explain why this has to happen and why I have absolutely no choice in any of this and how- I'm fucking _seventeen years old_, Derek! I'm _seventeen_! What do you want from me?!"

Stiles' sucked in breath after breath, pacing back and forth in front of the large wooden table next to the paneled window.

"I want you to shut the fuck up and listen!"

Dereks eyes glowed red as he shouted, his teeth clamping together as his chest heaved up and down. Desperation seeped through his pores along with anger a lack of patience. It was strange to see him un-furl. To watch someone who always kept his composure finally slip.

Stiles tried to calm his breathing and snarled mockingly back at the wolf, "I'm not scared of you, Derek, I stopped being scared of you when you started sucking my dick so how about this, you have five fucking minutes. Five. Now go."

Derek growled, his lips curling back to bare long fangs. It only took a few moments for him to even his breathing and relax, coaxing the red pigment to fade from eyes and for his face to soften. He looked at the ground and clenched his fists, eyes darting from left to right before he closed his eyes and his mouth fell slack.

"When someone becomes a wolf their body releases a natural chemical, a scent. It's a way that we can find each other in times of need, a way that we can mark each other as Pack and so on. This chemical is released a handful of times during the lifetime of a wolf," he paused and looked over to Stiles who was staring back at him, raising his eyebrows and nodding. Derek continued, "I was born a wolf, so that chemical was dormant until I was old enough to-"

"Fucking wolf puberty, okay, great, onward," Stiles muttered, playing awkwardly with his hands to try and busy himself and listening intently to what Derek had to say.

Derek rolled his eyes, "Yes. But the scent isn't just like a pheromone to mark someone it... It was released again when I became alpha. It... It's like a contract. I can't help who it chooses or why, it's to make the Pack stronger and to give companionship, that's all."

Stiles arched his brows again and shook his head, "I'm human, Derek!" he held his arms out, gesturing down his chest, "I'm a fucking human, one hundred percent, puny, non-supernatural human!"

Derek looked at the ground again and then back to Stiles who was obviously waiting for answers. Answers that he really didn't have.

"It's a bond, Stiles. I've only heard of it happening between a wolf and non-wolf a few times. But it happened, okay? The thing that I'm confused about is how exactly or why exactly you released the same chemical. Because it's not just my fucking hormones going nuts over here, apparently you possess something that wants us to be mates just as bad as I do."

Stiles blinked. He blinked and stared at Derek and was too focused on what he just said to remember that he had been angry at anything. His body was still shaking and his heart was still pounding but he balled his hands into fists and turned to look out the window and down onto the moderately busy streets of Beacon Hills.

"We can only choose our mates if our mates choose us. It isn't like blind fishing and it isn't like I beckoned you here. This is something I can't control and you can't control... and I really hate to say it like that because, Stiles, I-"

"Don't you **_dare_**," Stiles' voice was deadly quiet and it made the hair on the back of the alphas neck stand up on end. He was shaking again and he couldn't control the absent tears rolling down his cheeks, hot and angry and completely unwanted.

"Don't you even think about telling me you love me right now. Because we have been ruthless with each other for over a year and until a week ago I had myself convinced we would fuck until one of us died and that would be it. You are not going to take that from me, because I don't know what's true right now and what's not. All I know is I want to hate you so fucking badly but something inside me won't let it happen," he bit down on his bottom lip and looked over his shoulder at the wolf whose eyes were locked on his.

It was like the silence that had fallen over them the night at the old burnt Hale house was revisiting them now. Haunting them. Derek could hear Stiles' heart beat hitting his ribs and floundering inside his body. He could hear his soft controlled breathing and could see the moisture on his cheeks in the afternoon sunlight pouring through the window.

Stiles felt his gaze and it was gnawing at his insides. He watched Derek and dug his fingernails into his palm. He saw how eager his eyes were and how tense his body was and it felt like someone was shooting a nail gun into the side of his fucking head. How exactly was he supposed to deal with this? How does he take information like that and just immediately apply it to a year of pent up emotions and frustrations and break downs? If he was human where the fuck did some ridiculous chemical come from? How did he bond with Derek without even knowing what the fuck he was doing?

Derek walked hesitantly forward, his hand reaching out to brush against Stiles' long slender fingers. The boy pulled away and looked over at Derek. It was quiet. Tense. And the alphas eyes narrowed when Stiles unzipped his sweat shirt and it fell to the floor. His jeans hung loose on his hips, body lean and sculpted. The alphas eyes flicked from his toes back to the light brown eyes watching him from under an umbrella of dark lashes.

"I don't want you to tell me you love me," Stiles repeated, reaching for the ends of Dereks shirt and tugging them up. The wolf pulled the shirt up over his head and tossed it away, looking across to Stiles and listening to the boys heart as it continued to race.

It was hard to understand. The anger and confusion and desperation all hurdled into one.

"Then what do you want, Stiles?" the irritation in Dereks voice stung and Stiles grinded his teeth together.

"I want you. That's it, and I want you to want me and I don't want anything more right now. It's been a long fucking day and I've had three fucking panic attacks in an eight hour period and honestly I can't do this shit. I don't know what any of this means and I'd really like to not think about it right now or talk about it or really talk at all I-"

The kiss was angry. Hard and rough and it hurt. But Stiles didn't mind. He didn't mind the crushing blows of Dereks mouth on his own and he didn't mind the way he gripped his hips and picked him up and slammed him against the pillar a few feet away. It didn't phase him when Derek bit down on his throat so hard that his eyes burned with tears and he choked out a moan when the alpha grinded his hips hard between the boys legs.

The thoughts floated away. The hurt faded. The anxiety melted into the floor beneath them and everything was gone for a minute. Just like it always had been. When everything had gone terribly wrong it was this that grounded them. Stiles didn't want to think of mating or bonding or being a wolf, he wanted to think of Derek and how his skin was slick with sweat and how he whimpered when Stiles pulled his nails down the center of his back.

There was always time to deal with that shit later. Even though he didn't want to admit that he had ran here out of fear right into Dereks arms, and he didn't want to think about the fact that no matter how angry he had been, Stiles had been completely torn since this morning. Torn between letting himself fall into this with open arms and a completely open mind, and running as fast as he could the other direction, with his panic and his anxiety and everything else he hated to keep him company in the dark.

But right now all that mattered was Dereks labored breathing and how Stiles ignored the pain when his back hit the cement floor of the loft.


	10. Steps

**Sorry for the late update guys. Fluff chapter. Enjoy, review, and as always thanks for reading. I'm in the process of writing a new fanfiction as well and it's consuming most of my time :/ but this is still a priority! Thank you guys for all your support!**

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The sound his back made as it hit the cement floor startled Stiles and he gasped, nails digging into Dereks back. He whimpered, biting back tears that threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes. Rough sex was something they both enjoyed. It was what they usually indulged in. But this... this was different. The wolfs mouth was empty, his movements too sharp and his hands too deliberate. He wasn't there with Stiles and the moment that the boy realized that he choked on the alphas name and received no response. Derek simply bit down on his collar bone, talented fingers popping the button on Stiles jeans loose.

"Derek, stop," Stiles moved his hands and pressed on the wolfs chest, pushing hard on the sculpted muscle. The wolf hesitated a moment, eyes flicking down to lock with a nervous amber gaze. Stiles blinked up at him and his hands fell from their place against his chest. They stared at each other, through each other. It wasn't as if they had to memorize each other or figure each other out, they had done that already. A prang of guilt found its way into Stiles' stomach and he swallowed a dry scratchy breath of air.

Derek said nothing. He just heaved in breath after breath and Stiles inhaled every bit of warmth that was pushed out across his mouth.

"Derek..." he tested, reaching up to rest the palm of his hand against the curve of the alphas unshaven cheek, "you... we... we don't have to do this."

It was the first time Stiles had stopped them and Derek blinked down at him, moving a hand to drag down the length of the lean body settled below. The boys breath hitched but he kept his eyes on the wolf hovering above him. The sun had set and the moon was casting obscure shadows across the loft. Stiles' heart fluttered in his chest and his free hand moved to tentatively stroke across Dereks knuckles.

The wolf let his lips part and gripped Stiles' hip gently, the strength in his eyes fading for a moment, "I don't want this to be the only thing I'm good for," he muttered. His gaze finally darted away and he turned his head away from the warm hand resting against his cheek. Stiles felt his stomach turn uncomfortably and his throat constricted when he felt the ghost of cold air against his open palm.

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? What the fuck would anyone say to that? He couldn't explain what was even going on in his own life, in his own fucking Calculus class but Derek just expected him to be able to find the words right now?

Stiles took a deep breath and trembled slightly as he propped himself up on his elbows. Derek sat up slowly onto his knees and continued to find anything else to look at in the dark except for Stiles. That hurt more than he had expected it to.

"Remember when you were pissed off at me in my Jeep for all the werewolf research I was doing and you called me a 'sarcastic, egotistical child who had no idea what they were getting themselves into'?"

Derek didn't answer right away but eventually nodded and poked at Stiles fingertips when the boy reached to tug at the belt loops on the alphas jeans.

"That's when I knew I liked you," Stiles grumbled under his breath, a smile playing like sad violins across the curve of his mouth, "like, _like _you. Like you."

Derek said nothing in return, he simply leaned back over Stiles, his torso gently pressing down into the boy beneath him. A gentle sigh fell from Stiles' lips and he let his elbows slide out from underneath him and placed his hands on either side of the wolfs face. His heart was still pounding, his body shaking and trembling and yearning for the man above him. It would take a force of god to keep the boy away from the alpha at this point and as much as he hated it, he knew that there was nothing he could do to solve the problem at hand now.

And fucking their way out of it without giving Derek at least some kind of emotional payment wasn't going to work either.

Stiles chewed on his lip and Derek watched him carefully. It was one of those moments where the silence was even waiting, waiting for something to be said or done. The heat radiating between them could have smothered the sun. It felt like the their auras had merged, combined and it seemed like something in their spines was lurching forward to get inside the body of the other. It was excruciating and lovely.

The alphas lips brushed across Stiles who leaned forward, whining when Derek pulled away.

"I care about you. I'm not going to tell you I love you because you asked me not to, but I need to know, at least... do you even...?" Dereks voice was quiet. Quieter than it had ever been and panic swarmed inside Stiles as the last three words pinched and pried at his ear drums.

It felt like two animals were going to war with each other inside of him. Like some wolf he had never seen was devouring a completely submissive creature that had no choice but the scream that he loved the man above him and would do anything for him. But Stiles bit his tongue and his eyes closed and he let Derek play absently with his fingertips as he tried to gain some sort of stability within his thoughts.

Sometimes it paid to just give in. Sometimes fighting wasn't worth it anymore and sometimes the struggle was against a force that was much too powerful and much too personal to try and overcome. People have always told him that when it happened he would see fireworks and the heavens would part and he would see a future he had never seen before. But how was Stiles to know that it wasn't all a chemical reaction? How was he supposed to know the difference between loving someone and being the mate of a werewolf? This was foreign and it scared him. It fucking scared him to death.

But what scared him more? Looking across a dark room to Derek, torn apart and hardly conscious. Holding him through the night and hoping he woke up in one piece. The night Derek almost lost his life just hours ago.

That instilled more fear in Stiles than the difference between being in love and being someones mate. And that alone was enough to make him take in a deep breath and wind his fingers into Dereks hair and pull his mouth against his own.

The wolf grinded his body down and pushed his hips between the boys legs, earning an eager moan from the writhing body beneath him. It wasn't a crushing kiss that was meant to bruise and Dereks hands weren't precise and full of ill-intent. They fumbled as they always did against Stiles' gently sculpted abdomen and they danced along the soft muscles on his sides.

Stiles pulled away, sucking in air as his mouth fell open, Derek's tongue darting out to lick across the boys swollen lips, "Of course I do, yes, yes I do," the words were hurried and Stiles nodded along with them, almost convincing himself of something more so than convincing Derek.

"I-" his words were stopped by a talented tongue as Derek sealed his lips over the trembling mouth that Stiles was desperately hoping would make the right sounds and the right words and wouldn't betray him as he tried to tell the alpha that his feelings were true.

Stiles pulled away again, taking in sharp breath after breath as Derek licked and sucked on the skin below his ear. He bit down on his bottom lip, grinding his hips into the alpha and swimming through his thoughts to try and pick out words or phrases or anything besides 'fuck me' and 'oh my god.'

Derek paused slightly when Stiles tugged at his hair again, pulling his face up and bumping his nose against the alphas. "I care about you more than I've cared about anything in my life. Including myself. I'm sorry that I'm a bitch and I can't handle things sometimes," he gasped when Dereks hands found their way down his pants and the alpha gripped him tightly. Stiles physically shook and his nails dug into the wolfs shoulders, "I'm just... I'm scared of everything and I'm scared of hurting you and I'm scared that my life has been decided for me." The words were falling out again, falling like comets from the fucking sky and pelting them both again and again.

Derek sighed against this mouth and waiting, playing patiently with the band of Stiles' boxers.

"But that doesn't mean I'm scared of being with you, it just means I'm scared of everything else."

Stiles opened his eyes and Derek was staring down at him with his brows raised and a coy smile playing across his lips. The boy blushed furiously and squirmed but was held in place by two strong arms that moved up to press down on his shoulder blades. Derek grinded his hips down into Stiles and whimpered freely, eyes rolling and falling shut. He gritted his teeth with the wolf chuckled and bit back down on his lip, chewing nervously.

"I don't really know what you're saying," Derek said gently, one arm moving to slide down Stiles' body and pull his jeans and boxers down and away from his body. Stiles had never felt so completely naked before. And not because he was actually naked or that his flesh was glowing against the moonlight pouring in through the window, but because he knew exactly what Derek wanted to hear. And what he wanted to hear made Stiles more nervous than anything else.

Stiles took in a deep breath and moved his own hands down to now push at Dereks pants, moving his feet up to kick at them and push them down, exposing the wolf.

"I'm..." Stiles paused and let his head rest back when Derek pressed his lips gingerly against the base of his throat, "I'm asking you to be my stupid fucking boyfriend."

It was a quick statement and his cheeks burned an even shade of pink as the words left his mouth. The butterfly wings inside his chest flapped and smacked against his ribcage. He didn't want to explain and he didn't need to explain. Steps. That's what he needed. He needed normalcy. Something that could ease him into a life long commitment.

A relationship would probably be the best thing to jump into before 'soul mates' even if that was what was going on, at least now Stiles had some form of stability. _Something_.

Stiles was whimpering and arching his hips into the alpha, hands siding down passed the wolfs belly button and across the hard length between his legs. Derek was trembling now and he kissed Stiles hard on the mouth, batting his hands away and nudging the boys legs wider.

_Fucking finally_ was all Stiles kept hearing in his head.

Stiles wasn't quiet as Derek rocked his body into his own, his eyes rolling back and nails digging like blades into the alphas back. The wolf growled and lifted his hips, teeth busy at Stiles' throat and dark smoldering eyes half-lidded.

Derek didn't need to answer. He didn't need to accept or say 'okay' or take him out to dinner. He just needed to know. He need to feel something more than Stiles' desperation and fear.

He wanted his confidence.

And that's what Stiles had given him. His trust. A title. Something other than a secret.

They wrestled in the darkness for half the night, panting and sweating and enticing each other with whimpers and moans and growls and pleas.

Dereks phone lit and buzzed on the end table next to the sofa but the two were much to enveloped in each other to care about any other sound besides the ones they were coaxing from each other.

A text flashed on the screen.

**Peter Hale:**

_Derek. I hate to ask this but you asked for my help. How many times have you broken skin when... you know. With loverboy. Because I think I figured it out. Don't let Stiles be sassy with you, we all know he loves you. Call me. ASAP. _


End file.
